He had never gotten to be best friends with Alaina.
Chapter 19
They came upon a deserted cottage, and after bedding down the horses in a broken-down lean-to for the night, entered the cottage. It had been a long, demanding journey in so many different ways. One more day and it would be over. She would return home after two years and with a husband, her long struggle for freedom at an end.
“It’s been abandoned for some time,” Cullen said, his glance sweeping the room.
Sara looked around the one-room cottage and agreed with a nod. The place reeked of emptiness, not a stitch of furnishings or personal belongings. Had a desperate family given up? Had they gathered their things and simply moved out? Had they abandoned home and hearth because they had no choice?
How many families were making extreme choices out of necessity? Hadn’t she done the same herself? Hard times called for hard choices. She had made her hard choice, and with no regrets.
“We’ll camp outside,” Cullen said, handing her the rolled bedding. “I’ll see to the fire.”
Sara took it without thought. They had established a comfortable routine between them and one they could count on. Actually, it spoke volumes. It was an unspoken promise that they could count on each other under any circumstance, as she had counted on Cullen coming to her rescue from the mercenary who attacked her.
She harbored no doubt or fear that Cullen wouldn’t come to her aid, just as she would come to his. It was strange how they had established an undeclared promise between them. She could believe it was because they were husband and wife and therefore it was his duty to protect her, but she knew better.
They were friends. They had forged a bond, though neither of them had planned on it. It had developed on its own and with a common goal—to save his son. They had both pledged to see him safe, and the innocent child brought them closer together, as had Alaina.
Alaina’s strength and courage through the entire ordeal had been a shining example of love at its best. She had been unselfish in her zest to love, and in the end had given unselfishly for that love…
Alaina had given her life.
Sara couldn’t imagine a greater love, and she envied Cullen and Alaina what they had shared.
She yawned as she spread out her blanket on the other side of the campfire from where he had placed his own, then set out dried fish and bread for them to satisfy their hunger.
“You’re exhausted,” Cullen said, joining her on the blanket.
“One day and it’s over and I’ll be home in my own bed.”
“We’ll be home in your bed,” he corrected, “and for a few weeks.”
Startled by his remark, which was all too true, she simply nodded. How was she going to sleep in the same bed with him for the next few weeks and not expect anything to happen? Actually, she had expected something to happen, but her decision on the matter changed and now posed a problem.
“I can see you hadn’t thought about that,” he said, a grin flashing across his handsome face.
“I hadn’t thought it a problem until recently,” she answered honestly. “But we will make the most of it.”
His grin resurfaced and turned wicked. “I hope so.”
Sara smiled and shook a finger at him. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Hope is all I have,” he teased.
Sara laughed and nibbled at the food. “Don’t think you can tease me into your bed.”
“I want you safe.”
Her eyes caught with his, and for a moment they locked in silent battle, until Sara took command. “I am safe.”
“You know you’re not,” he said bluntly. “Protect yourself and seal our vows.”
It would be easy, so very easy, to surrender and do as he suggested. What did she have to lose?
Her heart.
It was foolishness for sure, to think she could fall in love with this man. She barely knew him, and yet had to admit she knew him better than anyone she called friend. They shared common interests, opinions, and courage. He was everything she searched for in a man and more. How did she commit intimately with him and simply walk away?
“I can take care of myself,” she assured him.
“You don’t have to. You have a husband to do that.”
What a wonderful thought that was. That she wasn’t alone; she had someone to look after her, and she him. But it wasn’t real. It was a ruse near over, and then once again she’d be alone. Why torture herself with brief memories? It was better she had none.
“Not a real husband,” she reminded.
“As real as you let him be.”
She reached out a hand to him. She didn’t know why, perhaps because she simply could. “It’s so strange how we were brought together, and even stranger that you are no longer a stranger to me. You are a good man.”